Katniss Everdeen: Lone Survivor
by RainbowUnicornShiz
Summary: "It must be very fragile, if a handful of berries can bring it down." And it was. Katniss Everdeen's life turns upside down after winning the 74th Hunger Games, but not as intended. Escaping the Arena alone, watch Katniss' life unfold and change in a way that she could never imagine, whilst mourning for the loss of the boy with the bread.
1. Chapter 1

It's the shock in his eyes that will permanently stay with me, inked on my brain forever. The echoes in the Arena from the initial cries of 'Stop!' have ceased. It's too late now. The intense violet liquid dribbles from the corner of his mouth. His lips start to form the beginning of my name, but the sound never comes. It never does. I can almost see his heart stop, hear his pulse fade, feel the life leave him. When you have been with someone intensely for this period of time, it's inevitable that I would feel exactly what he feels. It hurts. It hurts like hell. But it's over soon enough. The twinkle in his crystal blue eyes dies down, along with his body. His heart beats for the last time. No. That wasn't his heart. It was the sound of the canon; his canon.

His body slumps into a cold lifeless mound of flesh on the grassy meadow. I soon follow after it, falling down to save him. This wasn't how it was supposed to end! I cling onto the already cold body.

My announcement as Victor is just a murmur of irritation in the background, drowned out by my wails of desperation. I shake, I tremble, I cry. I do everything and experience every pain imaginable in that moment. He did everything for me. He was even ready to sacrifice himself for me. District 12 will have its Victor. I wanted both.

But it was too late.

He was dead before it touched his stomach.

And what's the point in me living now? I have nothing without him. He made me. He made me desirable. I wouldn't be here without him. Him. Dead on the ground. I pulled back a moment, enough to catch a glimpse of the indigo fluid, still slowly trickling from the corner of his mouth. It should be enough!

I go to kiss him, kiss the stone cold dry lips; the last drops of the poison should do it. It always was powerful stuff in small amounts. I can't. It gets fainter. Not the poison, but him. He's shrinking, getting smaller and smaller with every breath I take, every beat of my heart. My screams echo in the dead arena. I claw down against the power they have on me.

"Peeta!"

The sound is so high pitched, I'm sure I heard glass crack somewhere. No. How could I? It wasn't glass shattering. It was the fabric of my reality itself. Piece by piece. I feel the cold warmth of the hovercraft surround me, and the pale spot that was his body disappears.

I'm like a rabid animal. Crying, screaming, clawing at myself and others. I'm surprised they managed to get a clear jab in my skinny frail arm. The feeling is like heaven. It's the only relief I've had in my life. I drift and float and fly and glide and swim and... and...


	2. Chapter 2

I'd like to think it was all a dream. It felt like it was. That's probably the drugs talking. Everything. The Reaping, the battle, the deaths. I wanted to wake up in my cold bed with Prim curled up against me, feeling that permanent dull hunger I've always felt. Always having just enough but always wanting more. I feel that growl in my stomach now. The rations of the Arena, replacing the days of feasting like a lavish Capitol citizen, have taken their toll. Doctor This told me I need to eat to put on weight. I need to be the curvy girl they all once saw. But Doctor That said the stick thin look is fashionable after my experience. I don't care what they say. They can do what they like with me.

There's only the opinion of one person I care about.

"Sweetheart..." he murmurs softly as he visits me in my hospital bed for the first memorable time. He looks in my eyes and stops what he was about to say. He knows. It's obvious. I don't want pity. I don't want apologies. I don't want 'there was nothing you could've done'. Nothing anyone could ever say would ever make me feel any different. The blame will always be on my shoulders. I must live with this. I do not want to live. But Doctor That has put a watch on me. The light for the camera blinks in the corner of the room. I have someone feed me. There's no point in resisting. They want their Victor. They must have me.

"I didn't want them to," he says to me. I look confused. What is my mentor talking about? "They went ahead before I even got the chance to get to the medical suite."

I don't know how long I've been asleep for. I do not care. But I admit, I feel different. Not mentally. I am still a broken ball of emotion. But physically.

"What?"

They are the first proper words that have left my voice since waking up. My voice is dry and crackly. It sounds just as broken and fragile as I am. It doesn't really sound like a word. More like a squeak.

My mentor brings forward a mirror and presents it to my face. I don't make a noise or a sound; I just look and analyse the changes as he explains everything to me. My eyelashes are permanently longer, my lips are fuller, despite being dry and cracked a little, my cheeks are rosy naturally and are slightly plumper and fuller. The crooks in my nose have been straightened out and my teeth whitened. My hair is longer, fuller, darker, more luscious. I don't look at my body. I can feel the implants in my breasts and the silicone in my hips and buttocks.

I'm a product of their design. I always have been.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says eventually. "You have to get ready for tonight."

Of course. My crowning. The replays. I will have to endure it all again.

He takes my hand delicately in his large masculine one. He had hands similar. It must be a District 12 thing. I am lifted out of the bed. I look at my body as he slips on soft cotton slippers on my still aching feet. I'm no longer the girl on fire. I am the fiery girl. He leads me through the catacombs of the medical centre and into the elevator. I find my new hips swaying in a way that they have never done before. I lick my plumper lips to moisten them. I am dying for a drink. Maybe Haymitch has one on him. He still smells of liquor, but fresher. It's possible it's just a residual smell. He's drank so much of the stuff that he'll still have a stench that will follow him. He pulls me into a hug. Human contact. That's what I needed. I want to cry. But I have no more tears left to cry. My eyes are dry like my lips. He places a delicate kiss on my silky brunette locks and inhales deep.

"I tried. I did. I-"

"Don't." I interrupted him. I look away and into his Seam grey eyes. I have to be bitter about this. "He went... Just too far. It's his fault."

I sense shock at what I had just said. But it was true, right? I didn't force those berries down his throat. The Capitol didn't. He just wasn't quick enough.


	3. Chapter 3

The doors open to my floor. It's empty almost. Well it feels empty without him. Our team is broken.

Effie takes me in her arms and babbles and squeals and is a bundle of excitement that makes me want to puke all over her puffy dress. She takes me to the dining table where my prep team await, as well as Cinna, and a feast which I aim to gorge on completely. The differing opinions of Doctor This and Doctor That are irrelevant now. I want food and I will take it. But before that, I block out the talk and congratulations from my prep team and aim for Cinna. I feel a trembling in me stop as his arms encompass me. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. He's always had this effect on me. Sometimes I wonder if he is human.

We sit and eat. As promised, I eat delightfully. I might as well. It would all go to waste if it didn't. I feel like a beast from the wild. Soup and bread and chicken and potatoes and fruit and chocolate and...

"Sweetheart, slow down. Don't want you puking up on stage like me," he chuckles from the top of the table.

I look up from my plate, my eyes probably glistening from pure ecstasy. I glance around the table, from the disapproving looks of my prep team and Effie. You can tell Haymitch has kicked her under the table, telling her not to have a go at me about my manners. I swallow hard and a faint smile curls on my lips. I nod and sit back, taking a sip at the light pink liquid in my glass.

I stop and listen to their general chatter, though not internalising any of it. They talk mainly of the Games, like everyone else in the Capitol. My name is on everyone's lips, in everyone's minds, praying on their souls. They comment on how easy it was for me to win. The Careers did a lot of the work. I just picked them off one by one. There are many theories as to why Cato gave up in the end. Some thought he was madly in love with the girl Thresh killed. I snigger at that comment. I didn't think a murdering beast could be capable of love. No one mentions Rue though. Or Peeta of course. Why would they? Don't want to send me into a crazed mess? I've just lost my 'lover' and my 'sister'. I suppose they can't talk about Rue though. What I did was an act of Rebellion. I stopped the Capitol from taking her body for those moments. I showed respect for my fellow tribute, someone I'm supposed to despise and loath and hunt in the hope of survival.

And no matter how hard I try, how hard I close my eyes, I can still see them.

Cinna takes me to my bedroom to prepare me for my 'big, big, big' night. The bed is made as if I never had nightmares in it, as if I had never shared those nightmares. The room doesn't feel familiar any more. It's alien; a shell of memory.

"Shower first. Then we will begin," says Cinna in a firm yet calming voice, so calm I turn to the bathroom in a soft fluid movement.

It's the first time I'm alone, stood under this hot flow of steamy delicious water. I know they're watching me. They're always watching me. They always have been. I feel my naked body for the first time as I wash myself. I have buttocks and hips for once, my boyish frame but a memory. And there are no scars. No lumps or bumps. My breasts are firm and perfectly round yet they feel natural. Who even am I anymore?

I hear a knock at the door.

"Katniss?" It's Cinna. "Are you okay? You've been in there a while?"

Have I? I hadn't noticed. Time doesn't feel the same. I smooth my hair back and turn the shower off, stepping out and drying off instantly. My hair is detangled and I feel relaxed, although I know the pain will start again soon. I can almost smell the wax they will apply to me.

I put a bathrobe on and go back into the bedroom. They're all ready for me, like doctors in their outfits before surgery. Proper doctors, not like my mother. I sit and let them do what is needed, starting with the pain first. The waxing and the plucking doesn't feel too bad. I guess it wasn't as much of a shock as the first time. They massage my skin and it soothes me for a moment. They talk and they talk about everything and anything. They probably don't think I have changed much. I always let them just get on with.

My nails are painted clear, all the dirt and chips removed. I am unsure as to what my make up looks like yet, but knowing Cinna it will be beautiful, as well as my hair. I know some of it has been put up, but the rest is down and curling up my back.

"Time for the dress?" he says, when everything is done. I nod a little. His first design gave me my name. His second made my name permanent on all their minds. What's this one going to do? Immortalise me?

He pulls back the white sheath, revealing a pure white dress. It's fitted at the stop and comes down in smooth layers of white. I stand up and look at it, taking a length of the fabric in my hand. It looks blue in different lights. No. Red as well. I look up at Cinna. He can see the confusion in my face.

"When fire's extremely hot, it turns white," he says.

Is that what I am now? Too hot to handle? So hot I'm white? I don't know what to make of this?


	4. Chapter 4

"Is she ready yet?" knocked Effie. "We mustn't be late!"

We both took the obvious hint from Effie. I undress and redress in the gown. I look at myself in the mirror and almost nod in approval at myself. Well it keeps with the theme. I am helped up into my high heels and make my way out.

"Oh, Katniss... Wonderful. Right. Down we go!"

All of us together in the elevator: prep team, stylist, escort and mentor. They all get presented to the Capitol before I am finally. Haymitch drags me to the spot where I will be lifted up on the specially built stage in the City Circle.

"Don't speak," he says in a low whisper. "Just listen. He's pissed. Very pissed. What you did was an act of Rebellion. I know it didn't work out too well. But still. People will think they could do anything now, and not just to win the Games. You're gonna have to play innocent. I don't know if I'll get to talk to you before your interview tomorrow, but then, you have to be it then. Say you were distraught. You couldn't imagine life without him. That's why you did it. And now you're broken without him, and he'll always be in your heart. Do you understand?" I give him a small nod, my heart racing in my chest. "Good. Go get them."

I stand alone, trembling in the heels. Haymitch is right. Snow isn't happy. He will say jump and I have to, no matter how much it hurts me, say how high, because if I don't, he'll take away the only things I have worth living for. My sister, my mother, Gale; they'll be picked off, one by one, until there will be no one left in District 12.

He did it to Haymitch. I know he can do it to me.

I hear the fanfare of music and Caesar introduces everyone to the crowning. Then a roar of the crowds as each component of Team District 12 is presented to the audience. Prep team, escort, stylist and mentor in that order. This is new for all of them. I'm sure Effie is lapping up the applause on stage. She has waited her life to do this. It's all she ever wanted. And when she was lumped with District 12, she must've thought this day would never happen.

The platform I'm stood on slowly moves up and I am elevated onto the stage. I feel overwhelmed by the screams and the cheers for...

"Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!" Caesar says, presenting me.

He takes my hand and raises it in the air. Another wave of cheers from the crowd. City Circle is packed more so then before. Camera's flashing, zooming in on my new face.

"Twirl Katniss!" The crowd scream.

Caesar let's go of my hand and I do just that. The bottom of my dress flickers the soft blue and yellows. I am iridescent like the intensity of the fire I am.

I am dragged to my throne where I sit down. Caesar kicks everything off with a few jokes and the lights dim, ready for the replays.

I don't look. I can't. Why would I want to relive my past, my past with him? I know the camera's are gauging my reaction, tracking my every facial muscle movement, trying to catch any glimpse of emotion. They play clips of everything: the reaping, the parade, the interviews and I just listen to everything. I hear Peeta's declaration of love for me and then on, I know this is about our love story. From then on everything is focused on us. They show some of the gruesome battle, of course. They need their daily dose of blood. I hear my cries when I find out two tributes can win. I try not to smirk but I can't help but twinge in disgust.

They didn't show Rue dying.

I hear Peeta tell me all the stories in the caves while he was ill and feverish. It brings a tingle to my spine when I hear those words. He watched me walk home every day. Some might think it was stalkerish. No. I think it was cute. I don't exactly live in the best part of District 12. He was making sure I didn't get hurt.

The final moments are when we are the last two left. I was close to shooting him. I was close to going home. I look to the screen for the first time. The berries are in my hand and in his. No. It was all or nothing. I hear the cries telling us to stop. I spit out my berries and look up. I see the shock in his eyes, the sparkling blue die out, like the rest of his body. Oh no, this isn't a tear on my face. It's raining in the City Circle; it must be.


	5. Chapter 5

The lights go up on the stage and I get to my feet. I stand tall, proud, strong. No emotion. A small child brings forth my crown, followed by President Snow. He stands in front of me.

"You must be distraught, Miss Everdeen," he says softly, wiping the drop of liquid from my face in a quick effortless sweep.

"You have no idea," I say in return.

His snake-like eyes peer deep into mine, angling in such a fashion as if he were in desperate need to examine my soul. He places the crown delicately on my head. The crowd cheer and applaud as I'm presented to them as Victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

Caesar closes with a few jokes, telling everyone to stay tuned for my interview in the morning. Ah. Yes. That act in which my soul is bared open. I don't know if I will see Haymitch again. I don't think they'll believe me when I say I'm a mourning lover. I'm not very good at lying; I've always been too scared about the consequences if the truth is revealed. I'm not very good at many things. Hunting, yes, parading around in pretty dresses, yes, doing the things that Haymitch tells me to. Well: to some extent.

The lights go down again and I'm whisked away to the President's mansion for the Victor's banquet. It's a whirlwind of pictures and smiling and food and more smiling and pictures and being pulled around like some sort of cute kitten for them to caress, feel, fondle, stroke.

I sit with my mentor at dinner. I don't want to sit anywhere near any of the Capitol freaks. Although Haymitch dines on liquor and champagne, he talks to me about the interview, but only in a low whisper.

"Remember, you're heartbroken, completely in bits because he is gone. It just makes everything more real."

"But what if I say I used him?" I question.

Haymitch looked at me, as if I was completely mad. I think I might be just that.

"No. Absolutely not," he replies, taking a deep swig of the champagne. "Sweetheart, I know you're not one for following the rules, but trust me, you need to do what I say. Just this once."

I see the pain in his grey eyes. I don't know. If I say I used him I looked stronger. But I can't have predicted that they would've let us both win. I don't know. I'm torn in two. Continue acting like I loved him, or say that I used him? Was I acting though? I did use him, but was something there?

My thoughts are swept to the side again as I am dragged up to the dance floor. I would've danced with Peeta if he was here. Instead, my role as the token kitten continues, handed to each different male to dance. They try to talk but I don't respond. I'm not interested: in the dancing, in the topic of conversation, in being a Victor. I want to go home. I want to see my sister. I want to see Gale.

The night draws to a close, despite many continuing drinking and eating, but it's an early night for me.

"Beauty sleep," pipes Effie on our way back to the training centre.

I remove my heels and gown, opting for soft pyjamas for my first night of imprisoned freedom. My bed swallows me up when I lay in it. I'm lost in the darkness. Am I sleeping? Am I dreaming? It feels like the hallucinations from the tracker jackers. It's a reality that's unreal. I want to wake in a meadow surrounded by flowers. I want to be Rue. Dead, alive, in a field. A child. That way I can't explain my actions. I have blood on my hands. I have their eyes boring into mine. They scratch and growl at me. I killed them. They want to kill me.

My scream wakes me up. I clasp onto my eyes. No. They didn't take it. I look around my room, wiping the sweat from my brow. Why isn't he coming? I get up and slip away to his bedroom.

The soft knock is barely audible so I try a little harder. No answer. I tap again and make my way in.

Oh. That's right. I forgot.

Maybe if I sleep in his bed, there will be some consolation. It still has a faint smell of his odour: bread and determination. The pillow is his chest and I curl up closer into it, trying to reach the heart which was for me.


	6. Chapter 6

"Where is she?! We have no time! The cameras are here. The interview begins in an hour. She needs to get ready!"

"Calm it, big wig. She's probably..."

"Oh you're useless."

I appear at Peeta's door, to find them arguing in the corridor.

"Sorry," I whisper.

It makes sense to Haymitch but it takes Effie a moment or too.

"Hurry up, Katniss," she says; her voice is a little softer.

Have I changed the great Miss Effie Trinket?

Cinna and the prep team are waiting for me. I manage to have a mug of hot chocolate as they get me ready. Hair, make-up, dress: it's all done in a matter of minutes. Or that's what it feels like. The dress is more casual this time: a soft yellow sun dress, above the knee and a v-line cleavage. My hair and make-up are simply done, flaunting my supposed natural beauty. Octavia adjusts my hair before resting my crown delicately on my head. Slipping on the simple shoes, I step out of the corridor where Caesar greets me for a brief moment, before sitting me down in my thrown. I look around the room. Everyone is watching me. Well of course they are. I'm going to be on television.

And so it begins. The lights flash. I'm illuminated and presented to the Capitol. His questions at first are nothing much: how I felt at this moment, how I felt at that moment, what was going through my head when said event happened. It's not until he cautiously tiptoes onto the subject of Peeta that I take longer to reply.

"It was obvious that you both deeply cared about each other," he says. His midnight blue lips form a frown. I get the feeling that when watching our love develop, he could hear bells and was planning our wedding. "When you realised that tributes from the same District, we could all see your frantic attempt to find him."

I smile a little and nod.

"I didn't want to go home alone," I say softly. I catch a glimpse in Haymitch's eyes. "Especially without him." I add.

I sense an approving glance from my mentor, which is agreed by sighs of sorrow from Caesar.

"You poor thing. Our hearts are with you," he says, taking my hand and squeezing it.

This is what Caesar is good at. I don't need to say much, because he helps me along the way. He wants me to focus on the broken lover aspect of my time in the games.

"I would've done anything to be with him. I couldn't live without him and I know he couldn't live without me. So..." I look down at Caesar's hand in mine. I see the deathly glint from the nightlock berries, almost feeling the poison sink into my skin, and swallow hard.

"You don't need to say it," he says gently. "We know."

Raining inside? No. Even Capitol magic can't manage that.

"They wanted us both to live. You wanted us to live." I look up into Caesar's eyes. "But it was too late. The berries had taken him already. I can... I still see the sparkle fade from his eyes."

It's cruel isn't it? What we do to you. If we had just let you both live in the first place, you'd both be here, together, alive. But he didn't want that. Why couldn't he be nice this once?

This isn't what I'm saying. It's the voice of Caesar. His eyes say it all.

"We wish you all the best, Katniss. I can't wait to see you after your Victory tour. Ladies and gentlemen, Katniss Everdeen, the Victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games."

I am presented one last time before the camera's cut.

He pulls me in for a hug, a genuine completely real hug. I wipe that drop of water from my face away and smile a little, just faintly, against his shirt.

"I am so sorry, Katniss. We were rooting for you. We were all rooting for you."

I pull away and look at him.

"It's the curse of the Games. I'm alive, but at what cost?"

He doesn't reply. He can't reply. He is a public figure. He can't say anything. It could be controversial. I stand up and leave him, leave them all.

Home.

I console my nightmares over a warm mug of hot chocolate, the television on but the sound off. Now that the games are over, there isn't much news. One woman won millions because she bet on me. I'm sure Cinna would've done the same if he were allowed to. Although, knowing him in the small way I do, I know he wouldn't do such a thing.

I pull the cardigan over my shoulder and inhale the warm scent of the chocolate. The sun will rise soon. I'll be home. I think of my new house. I suppose being neighbours with Haymitch won't be so bad. Hopefully I can try and keep him off the booze but it's something which I know isn't guaranteed. My sister will get the warmth and the food she deserves. And maybe even my mother will get better.

I don't know how I can be so optimistic about the whole situation. I know I'm in big trouble with Snow. I did things, things which have never been done before. I wonder if things will change, if things will get better. But I doubt it. Things never get better in the long term. Two steps forward; one step back.

When the sun fully rises and Effie's voice rings in my ears, I dress ready to be presented to my people. As I see it come into view, the view I never thought I'd see again, I inhale deeply. Will they hate me? Not just Peeta's family but the rest of the District? Will they accept the riches I'll share with them, or say that it's blood money?

I can't think for much longer. The crowd are closer and I can hear them. My eyes instantly lock onto my sister's and I know I'm home.


End file.
